


Prisoner of Love

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Old West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Inmate 78, Buck thinks back on his relationship with Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoner of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Seven Card Stud #3 under the pen name Caryn Gottman.

          Buck sat beside his friend's bed, watching Chris while he slept.  Guilt swelled in the pit of the ladies' man belly, making his heart ache.  He'd damned near gotten his oldest friend, his _best_ friend, killed, and for nothing more than his own pleasure and laziness.

          He should have known Chris wouldn't stay away from town that long.  He should have known something was wrong.  He should have gone looking for the man days earlier than he did.

But he hadn't known or done either of those things.  And look at Chris now, he berated himself, he was beaten up, half-starved, and fighting a fever.

          He shook his head and sighed heavily, knowing Chris wouldn't blame him, but Buck would blame himself all the same, just like still he blamed himself for Sarah's and Adam's deaths.  He just couldn't help it.  It seemed that he was always letting Chris down in one way or another.  At least, it felt like he was to him.  Chris didn't seem to agree with him, but then, that was just the way Larabee was, too.

          Buck glanced down at the sleeping man again and smiled gratefully.  At least they had found him in time, although just barely.

God but he had missed the man!

He and Chris were about as close as two men could be and still not rouse enough suspicion to get themselves run out of town.  He sighed heavily.  Or at least they used to be that close… back before Sarah and Adam were gone, before Larabee's heavy drinking and crazy risks… before Buck had finally ridden away, unwilling to get himself killed alongside his grieving friend.

He'd missed Chris, badly – missed him each and every single day.  But he knew he'd done the right thing.

          The last time he'd seen Larabee – before that morning in Four Corners – they had fought.  It was a loud, brutal altercation of words.  And, in the end, he'd told his best friend he could kill himself if he wanted to, but he'd be damned of he was going to let Larabee kill him as well.

          A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.  He'd added something about him being too young and handsome to deprive the gals of his favors that soon.  And then he'd ridden away, never once looking back – and spent the next three days in a drunken stupor, sobbing his loss into the ample bosom of a willing saloon girl.

He never expected to see Chris Larabee again.

          But he had.  And standing there on the boardwalk in Four Corners, half-dressed, staring at the familiar face, he'd felt all the memories, all the feelings, all the crazy longings he'd always felt when he'd been around the man come rushing back.  It was like seeing a ghost, or a long-sought-for wish that had come true.

          And then he'd gone and almost gotten Chris killed.  When would he ever learn?

          Looking down at the sleeping blond, he sighed.  He knew the man lying in bed wasn't the same Chris Larabee he'd met toward the end of the war.  He wasn't the same Chris Larabee he'd ridden with for almost ten years, or the one who had married Sarah.  He wasn't the same man who had handed Buck his son a few hours after Adam had been born, green eyes alight with love and pride the likes of which Buck had never seen before, or ever hoped to again.

This was another Chris Larabee, similar to, but not identical to the one he'd met those many years ago – the one he loved like a brother, or something more, if there was such a thing.

This Chris Larabee was a good man, an honest man, but a man with a hole in his heart and in his soul.  The hole was smaller now than it had been when Buck had ridden away those many months ago, but it was still there all the same.

          This Chris Larabee had made a timid peace with his past, his loss.  Dressed all in black now, this Chris Larabee might no longer court death, but death still walked at his shoulder, and it sometimes frightened the ladies' man.

          Leaning back, Buck closed his eyes and remembered the other Chris Larabee, young and reckless and constantly randy, just like Buck had been.  That Chris smiled often and met life head-on with a sense of optimism that seemed to bend the world to his will.

Just out of the Army, the two young men had ridden west, looking for a new life full of adventures.  But all they had found was bad weather, worse roads, and ruffians at every turn.

          In Colorado Territory they had turned south and they kept on riding straight into Mexico.  Why they'd decided on Mexico, they had no clue.  It was just somewhere to go they hadn't been before.

          In those southern deserts the nights were warm and, since they didn't have enough money to spend for a hotel room, they slept out under the stars, listening to the faint music from the cantinas and wishing they had cold beers and hot senoritas in their hands.

          Buck snorted softly and grinned.  He remembered one night in particular when they had camped near a small spring.  It had been hot that night, even well after dark, and the two half-drunk men had pulled their clothes off and jumped into the cool water, giggling like a couple of little boys who were skipping school.

          They could hear the sweet guitar music coming from the local cantina, and the occasional laughter from the patrons.  Later, the sounds of the girls, plying their trade in the night, reached them as well.

          "Damn," Buck had groaned, listening to the guttural sounds drifting on the slight breeze that cooled and dried their wet skin, "Wish we had a couple extra dollars.  Don't know about you, but I could use a little female companionship right about now."

          "Thought you told me you never paid for it," Chris teased him.

          "That's true!  North of the border," he admitted.  "Don't know the language down here well enough to sweet talk one of them pretty little senoritas into a night of pure delight with Buck Wilmington."

          Chris snorted.

          They laid down on their bedrolls, letting the hot air dry their bodies as the sounds of lusty passion continued to fill the night.

          "Damn, damn, damn," Buck sighed, reaching down to take hold of his cock, which was stiffening in response to the moans and gasps.  He ran his hand along his sex, thinking about what must be happening, then glanced over at Chris, who was doing exactly the same thing.

          And it was the sight of Larabee's hand on his stiff prod that had really awakened Buck's passions that night.  Wilmington's hand squeezed harder, moved faster, watching Chris work himself like that.  And, before long, both of them were spilling their seed onto the hot desert sand.

          Buck wasn't even sure if Chris had seen him watching that night, or if he'd been watching him – his attention had been too focused on the man's hand and cock to notice anything else.  Neither of them had ever talked about it, and they had moved on the next day, although Buck could no longer remember where they'd gone.

          At the time, Buck hadn't really been sure if it had actually happened; it felt more like a dream.  It wasn't until he found himself in a similar situation with Chris a few months later that he knew it had, indeed, happened.

That second time they had been in New Mexico Territory, having just finished participating in a small border dispute – on the winning side.  They were celebrating their survival with a large meal and a bottle of whiskey at the saloon, where they captured the interest of one of the working gals.

She and Buck had struck up a conversation and, before the night was over, he and Chris landed upstairs in her room, along with another gal – young and clear-faced, her large blue eyes half-scared, half-excited.

          Janey, Buck's companion for the night, had explained that Emma was new to the trade, but she'd taken a liking to Chris when she'd seen him come in.  As they undressed, Buck extolled the wonders of carnal passion, but Emma only had eyes for Chris, who looked a little nervous about lying with a self-professed virgin.

          Buck guessed it was a ploy on the girl's part, something to wring an extra dollar or two from Chris, but she _was_ young, _and_ pretty, and she certainly could act inexperienced.

          Janey, on the other hand, was very skilled.  But then, so was Buck.

The ladies' man smiled and sighed contentedly, remembering their passion that night.  Before long he and Janey were both basking in the sweet afterglow of satisfaction.

Chris, however, was struggling, his virgin trying to pump him to a climax with only partial success.

          Buck had finally laughed and rolled off his bed, crossing over to where Emma sat next to Larabee, trying to keep him aroused.

          "Here, let me show ya," Buck had told her, his hand taking the place of hers on Chris's cock.  "Y' see, darlin', you've got to take command over it," told her, ignoring his friend's scandalized expression.  "It ain't no young animal to be petted, it's a wild thing you've got to tame," he told her, squeezing hard and making Chris groan.  "Y' see," he continued, "you have to kept a tight hold on it, then stroke it, like this…"

Larabee's head rolled from side to side and his hips began to thrust up in time with Buck's sure movements.

"Y' see, now you've got 'im under your control.  Y' want to finish him off fast and be done with 'im, you just squeeze while you're stroking, or tease his sacks a little, or play with the head.  Y' do it all at the same time, he'll be gone from your bed faster 'n you can say skinny-dip.  But, if you're enjoying yourself, why, then, you might try this."  Buck squeezed the base of Larabee's cock with one hand and played with his foreskin with the other.

Chris's hips jerked in reply and a tiny bead of precome began to fill the slit.

          "Y' see that?" Buck asked her, nodding at the pearly drop.  Emma nodded, her eyes dancing with excitement.  "That's telling y' he's gettin' close to shooting his seed.  Y' see that, you don't let him between your legs or you'll be runnin' a risk of findin' yourself with a baby."

          "Y' listen t' him," Janey called from her bed.  "He's tellin' y' true."

          Emma looked over her shoulder at the older girl and nodded.  "I will," she promised.

          Chris leaked more and Buck showed Emma how to use it to slick her hand, letting it move over Chris's cock with swift, tight strokes that varied from long to short.  Before long, under the ladies' man's practiced hand, Larabee was jerking and thrusting and grunting with need.

          "This'll usually do the trick right about now," Buck told Emma, rubbing his thumb over the head of Chris's cock.  Larabee moaned, his hips thrusting faster and, a moment later, he was coming.

Buck grinned at Emma.  "Y' see, what'd I tell you?"

She nodded and clapped excitedly.

The following morning Chris had paid Emma, adding an extra dollar, then handed Buck a dollar as well.

"What's this for?" he asked Larabee.

Chris grinned wickedly.  "Your, uh, services."

Buck had laughed and flipped the coin back to his friend.  "Keep it, stud, y' might need to buy 'em from me again someday."

They had spent a couple more nights with those two girls, all of them enjoying the time shared.

Buck sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face.  My God but he'd spent some good times with Chris Larabee, had had some real adventures.  But now, looking over at the sleeping man, he unexpectedly found himself longing to reach out and touch the man like he had that time with Emma and Janey.  But he wasn't sure how Chris would feel about that.  Still, it couldn't hurt to just touch him, could it?

He reached out tentatively, resting his hand on Chris's forehead, feeling the fever that still hung on, making the man's skin warm.  At least he wasn't hot any longer – thank God.  He carefully smoothed back the man's blond hair, clean now after the bath Nathan had given the wounded man when they'd gotten back to Four Corners and the worst of the fever had broken.

Letting his hand drift lower, he gently touched Larabee's shoulder and arm.  Chris shifted slightly, but he seemed to enjoy the touch, so Buck continued, rubbing the man's chest lightly.  He avoided the dark bruises as best he could and listened to Larabee's breaths become deeper as he relaxed under the affectionate touch.

Buck rubbed Chris's hands and arms, his shoulders, chest and belly, and through it all the blond slept soundly, a look of pure contentment on his stubble-covered face.

Buck grinned, enjoying the sight of his friend looking so young and innocent and vulnerable.  It had been so very long since he'd seen that look on the man's face, even in sleep.

His hands moved lower, rubbing over Larabee's hips and thighs, then his calves.  Chris jerked slightly when Buck touched his feet and the ladies' man grinned again, the idea that the infamous Chris Larabee might be ticklish amusing him to no end.  He briefly considered testing just _how_ ticklish the man might be, but he was afraid he might hurt Chris if he jerked awake in response.

His hands started up again, soothing the muscles in the man's legs, which fell open slightly as they relaxed.

Buck swallowed hard, seeing how the pleasure of the rub had started to swell Chris's heavy cock where it lay on his lower belly.

The memories, pulled up so recently, folded back on Buck – the look on the blond's face as they'd taken care of themselves that night in the desert… the feel of Chris's prod in his hand that night…

The ladies' man shook his head to clear away the enticing memories and forced his hands to move back onto Chris's chest and belly, still moving lightly so he didn't wake or hurt his friend.

Buck forced the strange passions back and held them at bay until he heard Larabee sigh deeply when his fingers passed over the blond's chest and collar bones.  _Ah, it ain't fair, teasin' a man like that, stud_ , he silently told his friend, his gaze returning to the man's slightly more swollen cock.

Wilmington was genuinely surprised to discover just how much he enjoyed making Chris feel good.  It was a heady feeling, one that swelled his heart and stirred a pleasant warmth in his belly, and he wondered why he hadn't ever noticed it before now.  He'd nursed Larabee on several occasions, before and after Sarah, and had been nursed by Chris in his turn as well.  But those times had never given rise to the feelings he was experiencing now.

His fingers strayed back to the Chris's chest again, running lightly over the man's nipples, which turned hard under the tender attention.  That forced Buck to puff out a soft breath as his own cock began to fill with longing.

Looking down at the hard nubs, Buck chalked the reaction up to Larabee not having had any female companionship in a while.  If Chris would just get off his ass and get to courting Mary Travis, he wouldn't be so damned quick on the trigger.

But he couldn't deny it gave him a real sense of satisfaction to know he'd perked the interest of those sensitive buds.  And he might not know why touching his friend felt this good, but it did, and he didn't want to stop.

He teased the hard nubs again and watched as Chris's head rolled to the side, lips parting, tongue slipping out just enough to wet them.

And that stirred something deep inside Buck, making him go completely hard in a rush.  He lifted his quaking hand and ran his fingertip over the blond's lips as lightly as a feather.

Chris moaned softly, his head turning, trying to keep the contact, but Buck pulled his hand away, afraid he might wake the man if he continued.  He leaned back in his chair again, taking a couple of deep breaths and absently, he rubbed his hand over his erection, then cupped himself through the material of his pants and long johns.

That brought the memory of what it felt like to have Chris in his hand rushing back, and Buck fought the urge to reach down and take the blond's cock in his hand again now.  But he couldn't do that.  That would wake Larabee for sure, wouldn't it?

Maybe Nathan had given Chris something to make him sleep?

Would it be wrong to just help the man feel good?

He really wanted to touch Chris.  He wanted to hold him, to rub his hand along that thickening shaft.  He wanted to pull the foreskin back and run his thumb over the wine-colored head.  He wanted to see Larabee's hips bucking like they had that night, and he wanted to hear him grunting with pleasure.

He felt his own cock jump in reaction to the vivid thoughts and squeezed himself hard to still the passion.

"Damn, Chris," he said softly.  "What's got into me, huh?  You sure as hell ain't no pretty little gal… but I do love you, y' stubborn jackass… you're the brother I always wanted, but these ain't the feelings a man has for his brother… ain't exactly like the one I feel when I see a pretty little gal neither…  To be honest, I ain't exactly sure what the hell it is I'm feeling right now, but it's powerful, mighty powerful….  I wish you were awake, pard, wish I thought you'd understand what's beatin' in my heart right now."

"I understand just fine," Chris replied without ever opening his eyes.

Buck jerked back, his eyes flying wide.  "Chris?"

Larabee cracked his eyes open, his head turning so he could look over at Buck.  "Don't look at me like that, stud," he growled at the ladies' man.  "It's not like I'm getting' ready to propose marriage to you."

That prompted a smile from Buck.  "You're not?" he asked, trying to look hurt.  "Hell, Chris, y' couldn't do much better 'n me – you know I can keep y' happy."  He wagged his eyebrows at the blond.

Chris groaned and closed his eyes, complaining, "Well, the _least_ you can do is take care of what you started."  But there was a small smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"Me?"

"You," Chris replied emphatically.  "I didn't make this," he added, gesturing to himself.

Buck grinned again.  "Y' mean this monster?" he asked, reaching out to take hold of Larabee's cock.

"That's ex-exactly what I mean," Chris replied a little breathlessly.

"How long have you been awake?" the ladies' man asked suspiciously, giving the swelling cock a pull.

"Long enough to know you were takin' advantage of me."

That earned Chris a sarcastic snort.  "Hell, pard, ain't nobody taken advantage of you since you were in diapers."

Chris grinned, but he didn't open his eyes, enjoying what Buck's hand was doing to him too much to bother.  "Except you," he said.  "I let you do it all the time."

"Just part of my animal magnetism," Buck replied, his fingers curling and uncurling to squeezing the stiff prod that filled his hand.  "It's irresistible, didn't I tell you that?"

"More times than I can count," was the half-growled response.

"Well, now y' know I was right.  Just pure animal magnetism."

"Should've known," Chris panted slightly.

"Think I better take care of this," Buck said softly.  "Like y' said, it's the least I can do."

Chris's eyes opened, green locking on blue, and he frowned.  "So help me, Buck, you start thinkin' this is your fault…"

Wilmington glanced away from the intense green eyes.  "It _was_ my fault, Chris.  Hell, even Mary was worryin' about you before I was!"

"She's a woman.  It's in her nature to worry."

"Maybe, but Vin was worried too, though he tried hard to hide it.  But I saw it all the same.  I swear, Chris, sometimes I think that damned tracker can read your mind."

Chris grunted and swallowed hard, his hips beginning to move to match the rhythm Buck set.  "Hell, maybe he can… but it still… wasn't… your fault… not like I told y' when I'd be back…"

"Ain't no excuse, and you know it," Buck replied softly, still working the thick cock.

"It is, and I'm tellin' you, it _wasn't_ your fault.  I just stepped into something I should've kept out of… but I couldn't.  They were railroading an innocent man."  He reached out, his hand closing over Buck's, stopping him.  "Now, are you going to do this right, or do I need to finish it myself?"

"Ah hell, pard, Nathan said you need to rest," Buck told him, lightly slapping his hand away.  Then he stroked the length of Chris's cock, forefinger of his free hand outlining the thick, fleshy head, already beaded with precome.  "Guess that means it's up to me."

Chris moaned softly and sagged back against the bed, giving himself over to Buck's practiced touch.

Wilmington used his free hand to gently knead the blond's thighs, then fondled his balls.  He traced out the hard testicles with his fingers, then carefully pulled on them in turn.

Chris moaned, louder this time and arched his back.  That drew Buck's attention and he rubbed his hand over the blond's hairless chest.  Not for the first time the ladies' man had to admit that Chris was damned enjoyable to look at.

Larabee's hips picked up speed, pushing himself though Buck's hand faster and faster.  Buck let him do that for a few strokes, then grabbed him at the base and squeezed, forestalling his rising orgasm.

"Damn it, Buck," Chris hissed at him, his head tossing from side to side.  "What y' do that for?"

Wilmington chuckled, enjoying the feel of Chris straining under his hand.  He released his grip enough to slid his hand up the shaft, then clamped down again just behind the wine-red head, which was now leaking steadily.  He squeezed and pressed his hand up under the flared rim of Chris's cock head, making Larabee's hips jerked with frustration.

Then, slowly, he loosened his grip just slightly so the slick edge escaped his grasp, sliding into his palm so he could squeeze the entire head in his fist.

Chris moaned softly, his body beginning to shake.

Buck's thumb rubbed hard over the sensitive, soft surface, and then his hand began moving again, this time pumping Larabee with purpose.

With his free hand, he grabbed for one of the damp towels they had been using to cool Chris's fever.

Chris's hips thrust up hard to meet the movement of Buck's hand and then, with a gasp, he was shooting into the towel.  "Ahh," he growled through clenched teeth and grunted.

"That's gotta feel _real_ good," Buck purred.

When Chris finished, he sagged back against the bed, panting for breath.  His eyes cracked open and he met Buck's amused look.

"What?" he demanded, but the satisfied expression on his face took the sting of the gruff question away.

"Nothin'."

"Nothin' hell," Chris said.  "I can tell by that damned grin it's somethin'."

Buck chuckled softly.  "Just thinkin' how you look like a damned cat who's been lappin' up cream."

Chris snorted softly at that and rolled his head back and forth.  "You're really something, you know that?"

"Animal magnetism," Buck replied with a shrug and a long-suffering sigh.  "It's a curse."

"Not what you usually say."

Buck wiped Chris clean and tossed the towel into the pile lying not far from the bed.  "Hope that didn't hurt you."

"No," Chris said.  "Been too damned long."

The haunted look returned to Buck's face and he dipped his head.

"Damn it, Buck, how many times do I have to say it?"

"I know, I know," Wilmington replied.  "But yours isn't the only damned opinion I have to worry about now, y' understand?"

"They won't hold this against you," Chris assured him.

"Even Vin?"

"Even him" Chris replied, hoping he was right.  Buck's whole life had been spent live and let live.  If a man wanted his space, Buck gave it to him.  It wasn't Buck's fault he'd stumbled into something he couldn't get himself out of.  It was his own damned fault for not sending a wire to tell them where he was, and when he'd be back.  He wasn't the same haunted loner he'd been a few months ago, and that was taking some getting used to on his part.  He was just sorry that it was Buck who seemed to be paying for his education on re-joining the human race.  "I'll talk to them, if you want me to," he offered.

"No," Buck replied quickly, shaking his head.  Then he sighed and added, "I think you're right, but I'll have a talk with Vin myself, just to make sure about him.  Damned Texan's harder to read 'n Ezra when he's playin' for high stakes."

That made Chris laugh.  "Hell, he's always like that."

"Don't I know it."

Silence fell between the two men, and then Buck leaned forward and pulled the covers up over Chris.  "You should get some sleep, pard."

"Ain't sleepy," Chris replied around a wide yawn.

"Sure y' aren't," Buck sighed, shaking his head.  "Y' just try to be contrary, you know that, don't you?"

"Try?" Chris growled.  "Hell, I _am_ contrary."

Buck grinned.  "Y' wouldn't have that problem if you'd spend more time with the ladies.  Does wonders for a man's disposition."

"You should know," Chris muttered, his eyes drifting closed.

"I do indeed," Buck replied, smiling down at his friend.  Chris Larabee was no pretty little gal, but he was his friend, his best friend, and helping him, giving him pleasure fed some part of Buck's heart that had been starved for attention too long.

And, sighing happily, the ladies' man sat back and contented himself with just watching over his friend as he slept some more.

 

 

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